Happy New Year, Castle
by AnnieXMuller
Summary: Set Season 4. Some New Years fluff. Happy 2014 all!


Beckett steps into his loft, flashing him a quick smile as she shrugs out of her coat. He hangs it up, leads her into the kitchen, and she's quiet as she follows behind. It isn't until they're in the relative privacy of the kitchen, away from those mingling beyond the counter, that he finally asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replies, but the rueful edge to her tone belies her words, so she shakes her head and adds, "Tough case."

"I'm sorry I missed it," Castle tells her, holding up a bottle of Merlot, silently asking her approval.

She nods at the bottle, and replies, "You had tonight to organize." She glances around, smiles at the joy in the room, the laughter that fills it, and feels a little lighter. "I'm sorry I'm late."

He waves off her words with a flick of his hand. "It's not even close to midnight, you're good."

It is though, too close. She accepts the glass as he hands it to her, and lets the stem drop easily between two fingers, her palm cradling the base. She struggles still, with Christmas, with celebrating a new year, when all she can think of is the date that's fast approaching. She wouldn't have come, like she hadn't come last year, or the one before that, but Dr Burke thought it would be good for her, and she couldn't argue against it. Now that she's here, sipping the wine, feeling her smile grow more genuine, she can try, she can use this evening to start to change the feelings associated with this time of year. Christmas may have been a bust, but a new year is approaching, and she feels a little more hopeful about this one.

"You want to mingle?" he asks, having watched her gaze out at the smiling faces of their friends, family, colleagues.

"You know, I'd like to stay here just a few more minutes," she admits. "If you don't mind?"

He nods slowly, shallow lines in his forehead becoming deeper as he wonders what that means for him. "You want company or…?"

"Company would be nice," she replies gently.

The burgundy liquid swirls in her glass as he tops it up for her, both staying silent as he does so. He refills his own glass, and then settles next to her, the side of his arm gently brushing hers as they gaze out into the living room.

"Been a hell of a year, huh," he says.

She shifts her weight, leans into him a little more, feeling his warmth through her clothes. Her stomach flutters at the contact, and her heart aches from the knowledge she could be kissing him tonight, sleeping in his bed, if only she'd been just a little braver. If only she was ready. "We're still here."

"Here?" he asks.

"Alive," she clarifies - and wonders what he thought she had meant.

"We are."

His voice sounds a little flat to her ears. She cocks her head, tilts her chin, looks up to meet his eyes. "That's a good thing, Castle," she reminds him.

"Too many close calls," he says on an exhaled breath. "Too many new scars."

His honesty tugs painfully at her heart. She turns away, and focuses her blurring eyes on her friends' smiles.

"I'm going to go mingle," he tells her, his voice louder, stronger, but forced. "Five minutes until Twenty Twelve, Beckett."

She smiles. "I'll join you in a minute."

"Okay, but if you don't I'm coming to get you." He takes his glass of wine with him, casting one final glance at her, gracing her with one last smile, before disappearing into the sea of people.

She lingers in the kitchen, a few minutes longer, until the clock hits 11:59, and the countdown begins. Only then does she leave the safety of the kitchen, and weaves through the groups, smiling, joining in with the voices as they chorus the seconds passing by.

A cry of Happy New Year! sounds through the room, and she is pulled into warm hugs, her wine glass held carefully to one side, her free hand gently squeezing arms, hands, resting gently on backs. Her cheek is peppered with kisses, and her own lips return them. She spins through the crowd, out of one embrace into another, almost blind in her journey through the faces, and bodies, and lips. She twirls, until she is spun into Castle's arms, and he pulls her tight to him, anchoring her body to his. She folds into his embrace, her free hand wrapping around his neck, his clasped at her waist, his fingers moving to splay against her lower back. They stay like that for a moment, warm, and safe, and loved, before he pulls back, and brushes a kiss to her cheek.

"Happy new year, Kate," he murmurs into her ear.

She doesn't brush his cheek with her lips, she simply smiles, and steps out of his arms. "Happy new year." His eyes hold hers, longer than he should, but she doesn't turn away. "It's gonna be a great year, Castle," she says, so resolute she almost believes it herself.

She turns then, quickly, before he can argue against it. She spies Ryan and Jenny, Lanie and Espo, moves to where they stand, and spends a few minutes with them, ringing in the new year with a smile, and setting the tone for the rest of the year.

* * *

The crowd thins out, and Kate finds herself saying goodbyes in quick succession. She wanders over to Castle as the last guest is seen out, and asks, "Want help with the clean up?"

He waves a hand dismissively. "Nah. That's what the morning is for. Or the afternoon." He pauses, and smirks. "Or Alexis."

"Missed your family tonight," Kate tells him.

"They had other, more important parties to attend." He doesn't even try to keep the bitter edge from his tone.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she replies gently, patting his arm sympathetically.

He brushes his hurt off, brightens up. "I'm glad you came," he says.

Her hand lingers on his arm as the warmth in his voice flows over her. "Yeah, well, I figured it was time."

"Oh?"

She lifts her hand from his arm, aware they're both testing boundaries tonight. "And I got a little push."

"From?"

"A friend," she says vaguely. "I decided rather than hear about it all the next day I'd attend for a change."

"Well, thank you," he tells her. "And I hope this is the start of a new tradition where you attend all my soirees."

"Don't push your luck," she says, smiling. She swallows the last of the liquid in her glass, and places it carefully on the counter. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she asks.

"You're leaving?"

"It's late," she replies, keeping her tone even, reminding herself she needs to leave. He opens his mouth to convince her to stay just a little longer - she can see it in his eyes - so she speaks before he has the chance. "Some of us have work in the morning."

"Hey, I would be there," he argues. "If I wasn't here." He grumbles through the last sentence, as his eyes sweep around the loft, and the clean-up job he has ahead of him.

She steps around the counter, and he follows her to the door. She turns to face him, to wish him a happy new year again, to thank him, to bid him goodnight, but he's standing closer than she anticipates. Finding herself almost nose-to-nose with him, inhaling his scent, feeling the warmth radiating off him, she can't help herself, she needs to...

She's quick in her movements, catching him a little off-guard, as she reaches up. Her hands frame his face, and she presses her lips to his; she slides her lips down to close over his lower lip, before covering his mouth completely. His hands fumble to her hips, press firmly into her, and he pulls their bodies closer, her feet shuffling to help remove what little distance remains. Before tongues can move into hot, open mouths, she eases back, slides one last kiss against his warm lips, and breaks the contact. She's a little breathless as she says, "It's going to be good year, Castle. I can feel it."

He nods dumbly, his face still registering the surprise she feels from her own courage. She plucks her coat off the hook, and exits smoothly. She doesn't look back.

* * *

He watches her as she disappears down the corridor. Once she has turned the corner, he closes the door, and stares dumbly at it for a moment. The tips of two fingers drift to his lips, and he smiles.

"I can feel it too."

* * *

_Happy New Year everyone! _


End file.
